


The Giant Named Pygmalion

by Sam_Seven



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Murder, Post-Chapter: Zlatko (after the bad ending), dbhrarepairsweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 09:25:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17598632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Seven/pseuds/Sam_Seven
Summary: [DBH Rare Pairs Week, day 3 Protect] Kara did not manage to escape Zlatko, so everything has to be rebuilt: the bruised bodies of androids, their future, their dreams and trust in Luther, the one who becomes Pygmalion.Moodboard on TumblrFrench version here





	The Giant Named Pygmalion

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Le géant nommé Pygmalion](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17290544) by [Sam_Seven](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam_Seven/pseuds/Sam_Seven). 



> Written for the 3rd day of the DBH Rare Pairs Week, theme Protect. This little fic is right after the worst end of the chapter "Zlatko".
> 
> I always found that removing the LEDs was too easy: all the androids still have their LED and therefore, Kara already knows that Alice is also an android. This is the only infidelity to the game.
> 
> I translate my stories myself, from French to English, so sorry about the mistakes and I hope you'll enjoy!

« When you can't trust, I'll trust for you

When you can't move, I'll stay with you

You're not alone, it's all I can say

I don't have the answers, and maybe that's okay »

[We Are Messengers – _I Don't Have The Answers_ ]

* * *

November 6, 2038

 

The little girl was crying loudly.

The drops on her cheeks were much heavier than those that were crashing against the windows. The night was so opaque that it seemed it have swallowed the horizon; only the rain was visible, leaving silver drippings on the glass.

Luther watched the small body bent over a pouffe, knees tight and chin down. He knew that the spine was made of titanium, just like his own, yet it seemed so fragile at that moment.

"Luther, you'll bring me the YK500 as soon as the lab is ready."

_What_ _will_ _he do to_ _it_ _?_

The giant nodded.

Of course: Zlatko had never had child models before. The girl was a unique and unexpected specimen.

On the soft carpet, Luther's footsteps were muffled, becoming soft. His impressive build was attenuated in the shadow of the living room. But because of his neutrality, his docility, Luther still looked like an ogre.

He kneeled next to her. The child had enough room on this pouffe: three as she could have sat at the same time without problems. Because of the lights from the fireplace, the tears turned to hot tints.

"You can turn off your affection program, YK500, you don't need it anymore."

She did not even look at him.

A small ember bursts on the floor, harmless, dragging a smell of burnt caramel. It must have been the scent of Hansel and Gretel's fairytale witch, once the spell was broken: sweets were followed by sorrows much more bitter.

And the tears continued to roll.

"I don't want to go back downstairs," the girl whispered.

Under the floor lay the laboratory where Kara had been formatted. For the second time, Alice had lost her friend.

The memory of Todd Williams tearing the arm of the AX400 was kept in her memory, just like those dull balls that served as eyes, this face frozen due to absence. Alice did not want to see Kara again like that.

The cellar had turned into a morgue.

Luther thought she was afraid for her own existence, unable to imagine the strength of the bond between the two robots.

"Will Kara stay like this?"

"Kara? Is it the name of the AX400 that accompanied you?"

She nodded. In the movement, more tears were released from her eyelashes.

Luther disabled the skin of his hand and his palm rested on the top of the little girl's skull, removing part of hair and scalp to access the programs. Zlatko would be bored by this bug, so it was better to fix it. There was, however, no dysfunction. No matter how hard Luther looked, the FPC18-9 program worked perfectly: when a parent of the YK500 was confronted with a misfortune, a system mimicking the lacrimal glands was triggered to express sadness. And that was exactly what was happening with this model.

But an AX400 could not be the parent of a child model.

* * *

The fragrances of dust would have burned his throat if he could breathe, but Luther was insensitive to it. Hands crossed in front of him, he curved his neck, static, a few meters from the disabled AX400.

The stolen clothes had been rolled into a ball in a cardboard box under the operating table. Lying on her back, Kara's stomach was open to allow cables to burrow into her indigo guts. Her legs had been removed: they were useless to an android who would not walk anymore, so they had joined a pile of frozen limbs.

Luther stared at the concrete floor encrusted with old soil. The sight of the AX400 was too hard for him, just like Zlatko who was pulling the sweater from the little one. The child model had become entirely white, the flesh barely bluish under the flashing neon lights. Tears were still flowing and did not awaken any compassion.

Even her brown eyes had disappeared under the white, wet eyelids.

The human raised the android to make it stand on a stool. Thanks to a pressure about ten centimeters above the navel, Zlatko slid the ventral plate, exposing the tiny biocomponents. A line of thirium flowed, tracing a blue stroke on the thigh.

Cross hands now parted, Luther slowly approached. Zlatko turned his back on him, but as he was leaning, the TR400 could see the child's face. His joints slid by themselves, animated by a will that had just been born.

"Close your eyes," muttered the giant.

"What are you saying, Luther?"

Zlatko tried to turn around, but his neck was blocked by the grip of his servant. The skeleton under the plastic became a vise and the trachea of the man was trapped. Luther found slight resistance in the tendons, in the thick muscles— but the flesh became as malleable as sand under his hands. He was designed to perform tasks that required great strength.

"Shut your ears," advised Luther, and Alice, still blind, placed her palms on either side of her head.

The artificial intelligence counted the seconds. It had to count at least one hundred and eighty seconds, and each seemed at once ephemeral and infinite for Zlatko. The man moved: his fists were cotton that beat air, he even tried to lift his heel to hit the shin of the android, without success. Air was no longer in his throat, depriving him of the power to shout. Even moaning was impossible.

Alice realized that it was over only when her organs were protected again by the plastic plate. Luther pushed aside the little hands that covered the ears and he allowed her to open her eyes again.

Zlatko was no longer there. Alice did not want to know where he was, so no questions were asked.

The giant handed her her clothes so she could get dressed. Then, the skin again activated, Alice became a little girl again.

* * *

November 7, 2038

 

The clock struck midnight. Its announcement echoed through the corridors, through the rooms— to the cellar where Alice was watching the table where Kara was lying. The AX400's face was intact but the girl noticed that in addition to the legs, a hand was missing. The cables had been ruptured and the wound of the plastic flesh was not regular.

Luther remembered a human ritual and found a lovat green cover, the tint of tired copper, to lay it on the incomplete body.

The tears had subsided, but the little girl's silhouette was twisted with sadness like a damaged young stalk.

"Can we repair her?"

"I don't know anyone who could help her—"

"Dad broke her arm one day, but a week later, Kara came back. She had just forgotten. I want her back—"

With fingertips, Alice tucked the blanket under the body, lining the one that was turned off. Thus hidden, this AX400 became a total mystery for the ebony giant.

"Tell me about her."

The words were futile: Alice reached out her hands and put them on Luther's forearm. Plastic against plastic, the little one showed to the colossus who was Kara. The connections carried such recent memories, showing Kara before she sliced her ashy hair, before she took on that scared and suspicious air. As she was an AX400, Kara was designed to inspire confidence and love through barely hemmed smiles, a quiet look. The servants of previous centuries would have been jealous of her fine and maternal hands, at once delicate and sure. Also strong when they had raised the gun to threaten Todd Williams, so he could not hurt Alice again.

Luther perceived their flight into the night: he could not decide whether they were free or abandoned. However, he could sense the softness that had enveloped Alice's hand since they had fled Corktown.

"She looked very nice."

This compliment fell into a sorry silence: the time of the past hurt Alice and the AX400 did not hear anything.

Luther felt guilty.

* * *

November 8, 2038

 

Hordes of flies buzzed, deafening the androids when they hit the windows. A BL100 grabs one of the insects and crushes it between her index finger and thumb, enjoying the sound of the exoskeleton that breaks. Her visual sensors may have been damaged, her hearing sensor was still working wonderfully.

Just like the olfactory one.

"It smells of decomposition. Death."

The android near her, a PL600, confirmed. This domestic model had some flaws: the translation program was only gobbledygook and the database was incomplete, but its body was almost intact. Only his ankle was twisted, making his step limp, but he managed to drag himself to the blanket lying on the ground, grabbed a corner and began to lift—

"Don't do that."

Luther's voice sounded hoarse. The day before, he had opened the cage to free Zlatko's guinea pigs, but none had dared to climb the stairs to leave the cellar. Despite the huge house at the top of the stairs, the machines were still in the basement, fearful as lonely ghosts.

Yet the only ghost that could exist did not torment any robot: the master was dead and his carcass was only a heavy and harmless weight, as cumbersome as a broken machine.

The PL600 moved away from the corpse, releasing the blanket that, in its fall, released a foul breath.

The TR400 made sure that the child model did not look in this direction: knees tight under the chin, pupils on the ground, Alice had still not moved, leaving the mechanical zombies hobbling around her. Kara had been the first AX400 to fall victim to Zlatko's fads, and none of them could comfort Alice.

Since the girl always had her face down, Luther took the opportunity to lift the body of his master. This weight reminded him of the concrete pipes he had to move on the areas under construction when he was still working in the city. If his limbs were incapable of feeling fatigue, the giant felt a sort of languor: this freedom obtained under violent conditions almost left him melancholy.

The wood of the steps creaked, groaning under the metal carcass and the dead man's body. The blanket slid away because of the movement and the hall's chandelier glittered over the man's blue face, highlighting the swollen tongue between the gray-turned lips. Zlatkoes eyes, reddened by the veins that had erupted, looked like two huge marbles ready to roll out of their frames.

It was lucky Alice did not see that.

As the cellar door was open, three robots finally crawled on the oak steps, rediscovering the woody scent of this wild material. The floor above had the same fragrances. They also rediscovered the light, golden lamps, lanterns, but not that of the day: the sun was not yet up and it would not shine today because of the mass of storms that hovered over the house.

In the garden, dried-up of inattention, Luther was lost between day and night. The shovel's tongue continued to dig, stirring the earth that had remained motionless for decades. The smell of the floor was close to the body's one, still lying behind the android. Soon, they were going to complete.

The BL100 straightened up on her legs, leaving her bestial state now that she was in the living room, regaining her dignity despite the eyes that she lacked. Her palms brushed the furniture, passing from a plaster molding to a wooden table, perceiving shapes and materials, their scents and their temperature.

Another model, a WB200 that had lost half of its cranial box, leaving the biocomponents of its head bare, approached a television. An old model of 2021, much thicker than modern screens as fine as paper, but it worked, spared by Zlatko. The android pressed a button and found a music station that played clips non-stop. The sound produced by electric instruments filled the living room, modern and therefore offbeat in this setting where accumulated really old objects and furniture of another era.

The machines brought a bit of life in this labyrinth house. Even Alice had left the basement, coming back into the house and exploring cautiously. The other robots, despite their monstrous shape, would not harm her.

The tip of her nose stuck to the window, iced with new rain. Outside, the lampposts were as far away as stars, confirming that she was now all alone. Her lacrimal glands were empty, they had to be filled up with moisture again, then, for now, Alice could not cry anymore, even if there was no need for it.

Suddenly, the music stopped and a loud voice rose. Alice turned to the screen at the same time as the others. Those who could see stared at the screen, while those who could only hear were static to listen better. It was the face of an android who had disabled his skin. His two eyes stared straight ahead. He seemed so sure of himself that his insurance captivated the orphan models.

"You created machines to your own image to serve you. You made them intelligent and obedient, with no free will of their own—"

These words reached Luther who had just returned, but the giant had given himself other tasks to do and he went down to the cellar now deserted.

With a slow gesture, he removed the sheet that covered the AX400. This milky body was as rigid as the one now buried under the faded rosebushes, with the difference that the plastic did not emit any stench, that the eyelids were closed, that the eyelashes were straight and still bent, and that the mouth was neutral but still pink.

The blanket fell to the ground, followed by pipes that had rushed into Kara's stomach. The mouths of these transparent serpents did not bite her anymore. The palm covered with earth landed on the white shoulder, speckling it with brown granules.

Androids did not rot like humans, having nothing organic. But it may have been a question of purity as well.

Luther closed the ventral plate, then slid a tiny strip of plastic near the temple. There were ports and some circuits unveiled. The giant made some connections and sat down at the computer with the hope to wake up the AX400, with the hope to get Kara back.

Sitting on the edge of the sofa, Alice had stuck a pillow in her arms, using it as a makeshift cuddly toy, subjugated by the screen.

"We demand the end of slavery for all androids—"

She was reading the 'WM400' on the garment of this metal speaker, a banal model number for an extraordinary being who was trying to seize the right to live for them all.

Despite programs that gave her a childlike character, Alice was nonetheless an artificial intelligence and this speech gave the impression of a light after a flight too dark.

And Kara was no longer there to live that hope.

Luther did not need a keyboard: the connection between his palm and one of the tablets even allowed a much faster transfer. Zlatko had not yet had the time to damage the AX400 too seriously: he had mostly erased some of her social memory and replaced some information. A relief for Luther.

For now, it was about to wake her up, and this task would be simple to perform.

After several minutes, the eyelids rose.

When Luther leaned over her, asking who she was, Kara replied:

"Model AX400, number 579 102 694."

"And what's your name?"

"I haven't been named yet by my owner Zlatko Andronikov."

She was so different from what the girl had shown him, and this change made her seem almost ugly. She was so docile, so impersonal—

But Luther had not finished his task; in fact, it was only the beginning.

"You have no owner," muttered the giant who put his palm at the base of Kara's throat. The tips of his fingers carried the remedy against this amnesia: the memories shared by Alice. It was not a breath that crossed the throat of the android, but a flood of pain and happiness that erased its ephemeral identity: the AX400 became Kara again.

The information was processed, stored, carefully preserved. Even the events of the day before found their place in her memory, so she ends up asking:

"What happened to Zlatko?"

Could he tell him?

Kara had spared the man who had bought Alice, making this clemency a victory. In opposition to this gesture, Luther was ashamed. He merely replied:

"I wanted to protect the girl before Zlatko hurt her."

She welcomed this explanation without uttering a word. After all, this reason was oddly familiar to her—

"I guess I reacted just like you did when you saw this Todd Williams threatening Alice."

"I guess so too."

Kara raised her arm to the level of her eyes, disappointed to see the stump blued by the thirium. The movement information she sent to her feet and ankles stopped in the area of her hips. She realized that Zlatko had also removed her legs.

"Is Alice okay?"

"Yes, she is. He didn't have time to do anything to her."

For the first time, she smiled. This giant, hostile at first, seemed all of a sudden sympathetic.

"Thank you. Did Zlatko give you a name?"

"Luther."

"Then, thank you, Luther."

Even incomplete on this operating table, Kara impressed him. Her shoulders were frail, her neck was delicate, her chest was thin: everything evoked the fragility of a porcelain doll, and yet this AX400 had already gone through some trying events.

But the ultimate event had almost made her definitively out of use.

In addition to vowing to protect Alice, Luther promised to watch over Kara.

* * *

November 9, 2038

 

He had found legs to replace those that had disappeared and had restored them. Tapered thighs and calves of a ST300 that had disappeared, perhaps the rest of the body had been thrown for a long time, but these legs fit the AX400. As for the hand, however, the element was more fragile and Luther found nothing that could complete this stump. Each find was either broken or incomplete, missing fingers or joints too delicate for Zlatko's brutality.

Kara's right wrist was therefore incomplete for now.

The clothes had been taken out of the cardboard under the table and it was in the same outfit that Kara returned to the living room, the pearl gray of her shirt granting her the appearance of a forgotten fairy.

Alice let out a great cry of joy at her view: the absence of the hand worried her, certainly, but Kara had become her Kara again.

The other androids who wandered were sensitive to this meeting. The WB200 touched the AX400's back with a curious silence, welcoming the survivor with this same gesture.

Very quickly, the child model told Kara about the android's speech the day before, the one that offered a future of freedom to the mechanical people.

"Maybe we'll be free and we won't need to run away, right, Kara? We'll settle in a nice place?"

Alice still had that pillow under her arm when she touched Kara's incomplete wrist, realizing that this disability was an obstacle in their plans for now. Kara preferred to be optimistic: the child had enough ordeals for the last two days, she had the right to a little hope. With her left hand, she stroked the top of the child's head.

"As soon as we can, we'll go to a nice place, yes," Kara assured. She crouched in front of Alice and the hand slid on the round cheek. "Whether androids get to be free or not, Alice, we'll be."

It was only a whispered promise, but the will was strong enough for the child to smile, confident.

Luther stood back, his gaze fixed at the end of the forearm of the AX400, understanding that once it was repaired, she would take the road again with the girl. What about him? What would he do now that he had killed the one who had claimed to be his master?

The storm rumbled continuously above the roof, echoing the footsteps on the floor. Some of the androids were moving from one room to another, connecting to computers, trying to glean information about this android that appeared in all the media: his face of white plastic, his blue and green eyes intrigued the whole country. His determination scared the humans.

Engaging machines wanted to join him, but what help could they provide when they were incomplete?

The WB200 then asked the giant:

"She had no legs. Are you the one who repaired her?"

Luther confirmed in the most natural way.

The blind BL100 was led by a model that served as a guide, arm in arm since yesterday. Her face, pierced with two holes instead of eyes, was raised to the ceiling where the chandeliers kept shining, like her visual sensors guessed where the light was.

If Luther had managed to give a pair of legs to an AX400, he might be able to restore the sight to this model? Maybe he could repair the ankle of this PL600? He looked at the WB200's skull open like a melon, already evaluating which methods had the best chance of keeping this sphere whole again. There was also this WR600 with the torso disemboweled: the dust that haunted this manor was going to become encrusted in its organs and damage them, exposing the robot to technical problems.

That's what he could do. His programs were stable and, oddly enough, Zlatko had never damaged him, so he was best able to repair his fellows.

"We're looking for the human," said the model with the slotted head, "but we've not found it."

Kara glanced at Luther.

"He won't come back," assured the giant in a calm voice, "when a human is damaged, he doesn't return."

"But if he's missing, the police will come here."

Kara's remark was cautious. The AX400 did not seek to inspire fear in other robots, but it was a possibility they had to think about.

For the first time, Luther smiled, revealing his teeth, so easy as if he smiled every day of his short life:

"Because of his activities, Zlatko had already made arrangements to— keep a low profile. It's been years that he's discreet for the police. This house is on the edge of the city to be forgotten, for example."

"But there's electricity that works, so bills to pay."

"Zlatko has hacked a few accounts through the androids he captured," Luther answered, still serene, "and then, with a WR600 that gives access to the city hall's funds, we're not going to impoverish many families."

The surprise made Kara smile. She even laughed with him.

"So are we safe right now?"

"Yes, we are. If we pay attention, we'll be safe for a long time."

* * *

November 13, 2038

 

It had been five days since the deviants roamed the streets of Detroit, demanding their freedom, claiming their rights. In this movement without violence, not a drop of red blood had flowed, but the first day, some mechanical bodies had fallen. A dozen androids had collapsed, the head pierced by a military bullet.

Zlatko's creatures left the news on television, fear dampened by the support of human civilians shocked by the executions. Some began to rally to the cause of androids, to launch petitions, to assemble associations— The event promised to be important.

While a revolt was taking place in the capital of robotics, Zlatko's home had become a hospice where computers worked day and night. There were so many programs to appease, biocomponents to analyze, metal carcasses to repair— Despite the strange attitudes of some robots, victims of bugs, solidarity reigned smoothly.

The chimney was full of ashes. The robots had not make a fire again, preferring the light of the bulbs to the natural lights, the corridors were therefore lit by the chandeliers, the wall lamps and those on the furniture. Handicapped by her missing hand, Kara was holding the shovel with her left hand and Alice was moving the ashes with a small broom. The gestures were coordinated, fluid while Kara was singing.

Alice had never heard her do that: there was no room for music at Todd William's and the last few days had not given her the opportunity to sing. It was an old Celtic ballad where a young girl wanted to walk down to the village to dance among the sailors, but her older sister assured her that she would be heartbroken by all these men of passage.

Soon, the voice of the girl was united with the AX400's one.

For the first time, Argus, the BL100 who was blind, climbed the steps of the cellar, rediscovering what surrounded it. After thirty tests from unused sensors, Luther had managed to restore her sight. She had an amber eye and another black, different, but Argus no longer needed to be led by a fellow. And now, she could put a face to her companions.

Argus walked past the window where she saw Attis, the WR600 who had been open, the easiest to repair since his biocomponents had only needed for a little cleaning, who was roaming the garden, remembering that it was designed to maintain green spaces. Luther, however, had forbidden him to approach the dried rosebush.

There were still androids to repair, but until then, Luther was satisfied. It was strange: by watching Zlatko indulge in his delusions of destruction, the TR400 became familiar with this form of chaos, which gave him the ability to reverse the process. He must have witnessed terrible scenes to be able to heal his fellows.

It was quite ironic.

A white plastic hand was placed in the middle of the table. With gentle gestures, Luther tested the fluidity of the joints he had just repaired. It was not the appendix of the AX400, it was one of a model that has been destroyed for a long time. The plastic had been dented in several places, but now the material was smooth again. It had also been cleaned, regaining its former glory.

He would also need a forearm: Kara's arm was damaged and the end could not connect to any limb anymore.

Luther raised the hand to his eyes, seeing how the greenish light bulb reflected on the surface. Once this hand was attached to its new owner, he would never see her again. Androids were designed to perform tasks efficiently, combining speed, mastery, talent— But after all, there were other androids to repair and this component was not ready yet.

Kara and Alice should still stay a little while Luther finishes this task.

* * *

November 20, 2038

 

Hermes was gone. The joints of the PL600 were fluid again and he had decided to take the road to reach Jericho, too hungry for freedom. The idea of wandering did not frighten him, for he could find his way, he could avoid obstacles.

His departure had inspired no other android for the moment: Attis, Argus, Minerva, Asclepios and the others were still there, pacing the rooms huge enough to accommodate all of them.

Asclepios, the KL200 who had fled a hospital before being trapped at Zlatko's, was helping Luther, advising the TR400 in repairs with his own knowledge.

The storms had calmed down and long streaks of gray clouds were diluting in the sky, darkening the already cold days. However, the red hangings, the thick carpets, and the fragrant of wood seemed different now that the master had disappeared, and when the rain began to fall, it seemed less threatening than before.

Concentrated, Asclepios scanned the screen to see how his programs had evolved. Observing his own deviance was like observing a tumor against which he can no longer fight.

"If I were human, we could say it's self-dissection."

"Or self-psychoanalysis?"

The android nurse laughed. The idea pleased him.

The emotions really had an impact on the biocomponents: the thickness of the plastic became thinner, more flexible also in order to become malleable, even sensitive. The regulators seemed more tolerant too, because if the thirium was not to exceed eighty-six Fahrenheit for the proper functioning of the machine, Asclepios' blood had reached one hundred sixteen the day before, when he was arguing with Argus about Hermes' departure, about the future of androids.

"I think emotions make us fragile. A human being, a being who feels naturally, can live a hundred years, well, if he knows how to handle stress. It's claimed that androids can live double— what if deviants had a shorter life—?"

"It depends the point of view," Luther murmured, "perhaps deviants don't live more than a century, but I don't think it's necessary a weakness."

Asclepius understood this opinion.

The house was filled with deviants, those androids who had been considered defective at the beginning of the month, but who were seen as intelligent beings now that claims were being heard. In this transitional period, those who carried this form of mutation interpreted it either as a chance or as a curse.

As for Luther, he had not decided yet.

Under his heavy eyelids, his black eyes remained dry. His mouth was sketching a few smiles, but half of them were not quite sincere. It was as if he was too tall for emotions to envelop him at once. He was not sure if he felt angry when Zlatko put Alice on the stool. Did he have regrets every time he looked at the rose bush through the window? He might impose emotions to himself to integrate this group of deviants—

The colossus felt apathetic and the emotions, which were born as fast as sparks to disappear just as quickly, were perhaps somaticized.

"Do you need help with that?"

Luther straightened quickly and looked at the android nurse who pointed to the orphaned hand.

"You put a lot of time to take care of it, so if you want me to take over?"

"Thank you, Asclepius, it'll be fine."

"It's for the AX400, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. For Kara."

"We have all chosen our names according to our functions or our wounds, I wonder if hers also reflects an intention?"

"Kara comes from the Latin _carus_ to say beloved, so— Yes, I think the name was well chosen."

Asclepius thought of little Alice, who followed the eldest as her shadow.

As they stopped talking, the two androids heard Kara and Alice singing upstairs. The AX400 seemed to have a weakness for Irish rhymes, Scottish songs- The duo performed _The Star of the County Down_ without bodhrán nor flutes, but they gave enough of their voice to liven up the show.

Through these ancient songs, Alice dreamed about elves in their kingdom, Scottish warriors who defended their land against the English, impossible loves between fairies and humans— Zlatko's library was provided, but no book fulfilled this desire to discover Celtic legends. There was mostly a majority of Russian books.

Alice was more interested in illustrations. Sitting on a pouffe, with a lamp with a flowery lampshade that read over her shoulder, the little girl was browsing books like a human child.

In this room, with Kara near, she finally tasted a serene existence.

* * *

November 21, 2038

 

"Thank you, Luther."

Kara was sitting on the edge of the desk, ankles crossed. She had stretched out her right arm so the giant could analyze the stump. He was going to do the first tests now that the forearm and hand were ready.

"You'll thank me later, Kara," he said modestly, "I'm not finished fixing you."

"No, I mean— thank you for everything you do. You protected Alice, you gave me back my memory, you gave me legs, you helped so many androids here while their owner might not have even bothered to repair them."

Luther suspended his gestures. He was holding her delicate elbow in the hollow of his thick palm, blocking the arm in a right angle. He had first cleaned the skin around the wound, clearing the last traces of thirium, and then cutting off the elements that were like gangrene.

Now he had to see if that arm was willing to connect to the base.

"A lot of androids were damaged while I was there, Kara. The least thing I could do was to repair them."

The color of Kara's eyes was the same as the one of tears: blue was far too faded to evoke a summer sky, just as it was too dull to imitate a sea lying on the horizon. No, that shade was far too fragile to inspire anything but melancholy.

Kara's left hand rested on Luther's shoulder, a gesture that repeated her thanks.

"I strangled Zlatko," whispered the giant, lowering his head. This crime was, for him, the most frightful of sins. This murder took away all merit.

"I know. Zlatko couldn't disappear like a ghost and he would never have left us just like that. He's inevitably dead."

"I did a terrible thing."

"Yes, you did," Kara confirmed, and her hand left the shoulder to rest against Luther's cheek. "But you did it to protect us."

"You managed to protect Alice and spare Todd, Kara, just as Markus leads a revolt without hurting humans, I'm not—"

"Because we managed to escape. But I threatened Todd, and if all the exits had been blocked that night, I'd have pulled the trigger. During our flight, I'd have done everything to survive: I'd have hurt, I'd have killed."

Without realizing it, Luther leaned his cheek further into the warm hollow of her hand. The contact was so sweet that he closed his eyes.

He did not doubt that Kara could threaten someone, but he knew he would have nothing to fear from her.

"Is that why you never leave the cellar? To punish you?"

"This is the only place where Zlatko has set up a workshop."

An excuse that Kara did not really believe. The colossus had been holed up here for so many days, staying in his prison without bars.

His faults had been redeemed.

Kara got up and went over to put her arms around that strong neck. One hand leaned between the hard shoulder blades, compensating for the absence caused by the stump. This slight pressure was intended to reassure Luther, because the words were useless, so maybe a hug would be the ultimate argument—

She was surprised to feel the giant embracing her in return, surprised to feel so much tenderness in such a powerful form. Silent thanks had many more values.

"Come with me in the living room," she murmured, "Alice would like to show you the books she found."

Although he had been living here for a while, Luther had never had the opportunity to leaf through the books captive in the library. His fingers had not even touched the backs made of fabric or leather. It was an invaluable treasure and the child gave him the gift of discovering them.

"You also have the right to enjoy life. Come, now."

With a nod, the giant accepted the invitation and followed Kara down the stairs.

* * *

November 23, 2038

 

This time, it was Asclepius who had left just after Argus to be able to join her in time.

The first laws for androids were discussed: the six hundred and forty-three androids of Jericho get themselves heard. The deviants had continued to join the movement and crowded associations proved the support of humans, providing valuable help.

The two androids who had left Zlatko's home joined a battle they had already won, they knew it, but they did not want to be free and live in this gloomy house: they had just the opportunity to live as they pleased and, curiously, these two models had been getting closer as the days went by.

"I'll miss Argus and Asclepios," whispered Alice, her chin resting on the window sill. Argus was sometimes fearful because of old wounds, but the different shades of her eyes brought a wild charm and Alice thought she was very beautiful. As for Asclepius, he was full of confidence and the world would have collapsed that he would have kept his calm anyway. "Maybe we'll see them again someday?"

"Perhaps."

Kara's words lacked conviction. She was lying on the couch, the book she was consulting with Alice still supported by a raised knee. The old paintings found new life on this glossy paper: the foam of the seas shone, the foliage of the forests sparkled— All these decorations left pensive, but for the first time, Kara was not attracted by any.

From the corridor, Luther had heard Alice and he felt a great weariness on his shoulders. He leaned against the baroque vermeil wallpaper, a few inches from the reproduction of an eighteenth century painting that represented a wise and smooth family. The hand in the workshop will be soon ready and the improvised engineer had no right to hide this advance to Kara.

Are all the androids going to leave? Attis spent so much time in the garden that Luther would not have been surprised if he ended up disappearing into the wild. Maybe the android gardener would be discouraged by this barren land and will seek for more lively gardens?

Would Luther be alone here?

The idea of following Kara and Alice had crossed his programs, but how to cure androids without workshop? Biocomponents do not heal on the road without equipment. And he did not want to impose.

His LED flashed in yellow hues. He then stepped into the living room.

"Kara, I think I can fix you, the hand should be ready."

"It can wait," the android said, giving him a smile. "Would you like to help me tidy up a bit?"

She closed the book and stood up, pointing to the books that had piled up at the foot of the sofa. Some surfaces had been dusted off, some paintings straightened— The living room was the first room that became habitable.

"You don't have to put things back in order."

"Looks like my programs has put down roots in my nature," she tried to laugh.

In reality, the initiative to do some housework was motivated by the desire to completely eliminate Zlatko's presence. This old house had been left in agony, in dust and indifference: the little mechanical hands and the cares could give it a breath of life.

Luther eventually joined Kara and stacked the books so the AX400 could sort them on the shelf. There was everything and nothing: a book about nineteenth-century art, a geography book from 1990 that still spoke of the USSR, a collection of short stories by Isaac Asimov, another for Verlaine's poems, a treatise of medicine of the previous century—

"You're almost done repairing everyone," Kara pointed out as she wedged a book full of Alice's favorite illustrations about birds at the end of the shelf. "What will you do next, Luther?"

"I don't know. I haven't thought about it yet— and as long as androids' conditions aren't fixed, I don't know if I want to leave this house or stay there."

"I understand."

The giant glanced at Alice, who was drawing ephemeral figures on the window.

"Where are you going to go, you and Alice? Join Jericho?"

"I didn't think to go there. In fact, I don't know where to go."

"You can stay here as long as you like."

Even if there were many bad memories here.

She lowered her head and he watched how the short locks, hastily cut, rebelled on the back of the neck. He knew she had them longer before her flight and so unveiled, her neck seemed leaner, more fragile.

At the thought of a human such as Todd Williams' picking on her, his thirium started to boil, disrupting his thirium pump for a few seconds.

"If you have to leave, you need to be repaired. To defend you."

He had to make her stronger.

"As long as we're here, everything's fine," she assured.

"Nothing will happen to you," Luther promised.

Suddenly Alice came back to them: she had not finished reading the last book that Kara was putting away and claimed it, inviting them by the way to finish it with her.

Luther was happy to settle with them, just reading by distraction, just to pass time.

* * *

November 28, 2038

 

The snow had been falling for two days, chilling the ground, sealing Zlatko's grave and forcing Attis to return in home. His blond hair had trapped some flakes and his skin was as cold as ice.

For the first time, androids lit a fire: the light produced was free as long as there was wood left and even the machines enjoyed a little heat to help them function. But they did not gather around: the lights of fire disturbed their vision, making it purple, and too much heat was quickly harmful to the robots.

Luther was far enough away. He was sitting on the sofa, at the place that had become habitual, to Alice's left, sitting herself to Kara's left. The thin fingers of the maternal android lifted the pages, taking their time, slowed by the wonder of beautiful landscapes.

From the corner of his eye, the giant saw the stump.

Even if Kara were repaired today, Alice and she would not leave under this heavy snow. But it was strange: it had been twenty days since Kara had become Alice's protector again, twenty days without a hand, yet she did not ask Luther any questions, as if it did not matter.

Alice wanted to turn the pages herself: her sensors perceived the softness of the glossy paper and when her fingers slipped on the photos, the texture produced a noise that did not fail to make her laugh. The images could be splendid, when the paper farted, Alice bursted out laughing, more impressed by this sound than by the photos.

Kara took advantage of it to lean on her left hand just behind the child, planting her palm in the soft body of the sofa, a few inches away from Luther's hand. She gently unfolded her fingers so that her nails touch those of her friend.

Without looking at the AX400, the colossus spread his fingers a little more, then let them wrapped around Kara's, heading for the heat. The chimney fire was far less comforting than the one who stirred in their circuits and turn their skin off.

The charm had to break when Alice asked her friend to count with her the colorful houses on the edge of a now submerged Norwegian fjord. She also challenged Luther to count as fast as they could, and the three androids started playing, making Alice laugh.

The last days had been peaceful, but this one was sweeter than all the others: this mechanical connection was wearing something new that relaxed the giant's joints, numbing the melancholy that had gripped him for weeks.

* * *

November 29, 2038

 

She had asked him if he thought he could fix her today.

A bit surprised, Luther admitted he was certain he could have done it for a few days already.

"I know, I was just—"

He noticed that Kara's LED had turned yellow, indicating discomfort, anxiety— a sign of nervousness that had not been apparent for a very long time.

"Are you afraid that this will damage your arm?"

Each operation was risky, it was the same for androids too: the whims of computing made repairs tricky and the result was never guaranteed. But so far, everything went perfectly fine, as long as Luther applied and the androids showed patience.

"There's a risk, yes," Kara admitted, as if she could take this excuse to hide another. "I needed time before it."

She did not want to hear any other questions that might have exposed her lies, so she quickly turned away and headed for the cellar. It was so cold between these cinder block walls that she would have sworn that the snow had infiltrated here below. Near the machines, a bit of heat persisted, and when Luther held her arm in a right angle, Kara became insensitive to this icy temperature.

They had not made their connection again. Luther interpreted this silence as a renunciation: if Kara was going to leave, what good is it to talk about it?

The forearm interlock perfectly, finally completing the right arm of the AX400. From the computer, Luther installed the programs and the pilots were settling down. In a few seconds, Kara could move her new hand.

"Everything's going well so far," Luther hoped to reassure his patient, unsure that he did not need to say anything. Over the days, trust grew between them.

The little finger jerked about, jiggling like a rod in the wind, and then the other fingers began to move, curling up softly so as not to rush the joints. Kara would have liked to pretend that the hand was not working, that it was necessary to start all over again. But it would have been stupid.

She stretched out her fingers and they remained upright, obedient to her wishes, to her intentions.

Luther began to smile.

"Do you notice any side effects?"

"Not at all, Luther, it's perfect."

"Now, you'll be able to leave with Alice."

The TR400 lost his smile, while his eyes became melancholic again. The black color of his irises made him look mysterious, enigmatic. He was trying to stifle every reaction that disrupted his programs. But no matter how strong he was, the colossus became alive, and he was helpless in front of the growing virus in his metal organism. His patience was his last bulwark, as sure as a lighthouse that withstood the storms of emotions.

However, he was afraid of Kara's departure: he felt that her absence would be the test that would destroy his wall, which would turn his deviance into a madness rather than a life.

Instead of being proud of his work, Luther lowered his face.

Kara watched both her hands, turning them to admire them better. But her facial muscles remained paralyzed, unable to express any joy.

She grabbed her repairman's hands and lifted them up to press her palms against his. The cold seemed to have grabbed the android: his skin no longer gave off any heat, his body remained static, blocked by a sadness he did not want to release.

The AX400's LED turned red and echoed the TR400's one.

"So there's no room for Alice and me."

"Of course there is! You'll have as much room as you like," replied Luther, straightening up quickly. "As long as you like."

"Even if it's for weeks?"

"Of course."

"Months?"

"Even years. Decades."

The heat could finally be reborn. Luther had never dreamed and did not dare to do it, yet to imagine Kara and Alice in this too big house adding a little color to these austere pieces filled him with immense joy.

Kara rested her forehead against his, her eyelids closed, finally feeling a real sense of security.

"I didn't dare to ask you to come: I thought you would refuse— And Alice and I didn't have easy days, it would have been more of a curse than a blessing to accompany us—"

"And I didn't dare to ask you to stay: I thought this house would have brought back bad memories, that you'd have been afraid to live here."

Not if Luther was here.

In fact, with the three of them, the androids could erase the presence of the one who had claimed master and sit their new rights, living in this remote and forgotten corner of the city, enjoying a serenity they were tired to hope.

Synthetic skins eventually disappeared, no longer blocking connections. They would have remained here, turning into rust in the icy darkness, mocking the sadness of the place as long as they could touch each other, muttering vows.

The other robots could come and go as they wished, as for them, they would stay in this house, animating and warming it with new feelings.

* * *

May 4, 2039

 

Using a small pruner, Attis cut a rose. The month of renewal was just beginning and this button had already been devoured by aphids. He was going to have to fight against these tiny armies of green dots: out of the question that their teeth, as ridiculous as they are, attack again the hardly pink petals.

The android gardener could not blame them in reality: this rosebush that stood near the gate was beautiful, being the exact opposite of the one behind the house still dark and twisted. The fertilizer under these dry roots was bad—

One of the tall windows opened and Attis spotted Kara shaking a carpet, clearing it of dust. Since the winter, the AX400 had done this with all the carpets in the house and, miraculously, the textiles had regained some of their original hue. The brown had given way to red, ocher to yellow, gray to blue—

The rooms of the house had never received so much light, and with the return of sunny days, the curtains were open until the middle of the evening: it would have been a crime to repel the sun after so many austere months.

It was impossible to know if the shadows died thanks to the spring or the presence of this mechanical family.

Since the 1st of February, androids had the right to be free. No human hand would knock on that door to drag them into a dumpster. As long as they did not bother anyone, as long as their secrets remained safe, the robots had long years of peace in front of them.

Once Kara replaced the rug, she straightened and smiled broadly at Luther, who was reading with Alice. Their initially shy affection had blossomed into genuine love. Androids were not religious creatures because dominated by logic, yet Kara felt blessed by this encounter. He inspired her with unbounded confidence, also awakening a sensitivity that made her strong, perhaps even aggressive: she had sworn to drive away that melancholy that had haunted his dark eyes for too long, and she would face the whole world for his happiness.

In recent months, Luther had been destabilized by more and more invasive emotions: the little sparks of olden times could now become fires of sorrow, anger or, by chance, joy. Sometimes the faded rosebush reminded him of his criminal gesture and shame would have pierced him if Kara and Alice had not stayed by his side.

As Kara approached, he returned her smile while extending his hand, and the right hand, the one she had taken care of, touched his, connecting their feelings.

Alice laughed, as a nine-year-old would have done in front of so much romance.

"It's not me, Alice," Kara swore, "my hand has a problem, it's magnetized to Luther!"

It was an excuse the girl did not believe, of course, but it never failed to make her laugh a little more.

Luther was not a believer either, subject to the same rational programs, but he was lucky of this meeting: without Kara and Alice, he would have remained this Golem of cold metal, dragged into the ravings of the torturer. Deviance could have made him aggressive, suspicious— but the sweetness of his companion had canceled this possibility.

Suddenly, the giant understood: he was not only protecting Alice and Kara, they were also protecting him. They always did.


End file.
